


First Mistakes

by Dotdotbeepdot



Series: Hobo Dark and Afro Wilford [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Crying, Fighting, Gen, He's very out of touch with his emotions, Implied Dysphoria, Mistakes, Name Calling, Panic, Pining, Yeah Dark's still pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dotdotbeepdot/pseuds/Dotdotbeepdot
Summary: Dark wants to leave Laguna Niguel before Mark has a chance to find them and accidentally lets that slip. He ends up telling Wilford everything and they get in a fight.
Series: Hobo Dark and Afro Wilford [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1361803
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	First Mistakes

“How could this  _ happen?” _

“What are you raving about?” Wilford watched from their new bed as Dark paced the floor, aura lashing around him. Dark ripped at his hair as he tried to fight the fear slowly burning a hole in his chest. He wasn’t ready to face Mark again, he didn’t have a plan or anything. Wilford  _ still _ didn’t know about the twins plans. “Dark, your aura―”

“The aura is the last of my concerns, Wilford!” Dark snapped, turning from where he was pacing the length of the bed to the far wall of the hotel room and swiping an arm through the air as if to physically cut Wilford’s words in half. “We cannot be back here. We need to leave tomorrow morning. We will be on the first train leaving the station no matter where it goes!”

Wilford looked shocked at Dark’s reaction, mouth open and sputtering like a cartoon as he tried to think of what to say. When he finally did speak, Dark wished he didn’t. 

“What do you mean back here? We just got here?”

“The manor…” Dark huffed, trying to straighten his clothes out― he’s starting to regret picking the one oufit without a lot of layers to it. He tried to keep his head away from panic, so he moved to kneel in front of the duffle bag and started rummaging through it, finding his old jacket that he quickly wrapped around his figure. He already felt better with the heavy material covering most of his body from view.

“The―” Wilford cut himself off this time, confusion turning into recognition. “Markiplier’s manor. My, I completely forgot about that place.” He laughed a bit in discomfort. He looked out the window of the hotel room. “Do you think it’s still there?”

“Who cares if it’s there or not, we are not going back to that place! Mark might be there!” Dark shouted before freezing as he realized what he said.

Wilford looked confused once again. “Mark? I thought that bastard was dead?”

Dark looked away, trying to pull the jacket tighter around him. He didn’t mean to reveal that. “I thought he was dead too, believe me. I… I should explain myself.” He moved to sit next to Wilford― the former moving so he had space― and faced him completely. Dark took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know  _ how  _ he did it, but he…  _ stole _ Damien’s body and is somehow keeping it alive.”

“Figures he’s still alive,” Wilford huffed. “He stole your body? How’s that? You’re sitting right in front of me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not Damien, Wilford.” Dark didn’t know why he was so afraid to admit it. Maybe because he hasn’t really admitted to it  _ himself _ yet. “I’m something like him, but I’m not entirely him.”

“I don’t…”

“This is the DA’s body,” Dark interrupted. “We died and we had to take their body to live. The only reason we are sitting here right now is because they let us in―”

“Why do you keep saying ‘we’? Who is ‘we’?” Dark was shocked that Wilford actually sounded upset with him. He was telling the truth now, why was he upset?

“Damien and Celine.”

_ “And Celine?” _

“Yes, why are you so upset about this?” Dark said tersely as Wilford got up from the bed. He grabbed their bag and ripped it open, rifling through it and grabbing a few bottles from under their clothes.

“You’re asking why  _ I’m  _ upset?” Wilford sounded uncharacteristically harsh and it made Dark angrier. “You have been lying to me for a month straight! I thought Damien was coming back after _ years  _ of avoiding me, but you aren’t Damien, you’re someone else entirely! Is Celine not the same either? Is she different too? Where is she, Damien?”

“I am not Damien and she’s sleeping,” Dark snapped, his aura doing the same. Every word that Wilford shot at him made it flare and lash around his frame. “As was I for all those years.”

“Sleeping where? I want to have a word with her.”

“You cannot!” Dark’s voice echoed with a shout and his aura shuddered rapidly around him, expanding and making him look bigger than he was, making him look stronger. “You cannot, Wilford. She’s not apart of this―”

“Than I want Damien, not this monster that has taken them from me!”

“I am not a monster!” Dark shoved himself out of the bed as he yelled. He stormed towards Wilford, but the bigger man stood his ground. “How could you call me the monster when you caused all of this?  _ You _ slept with Celine!  _ You _ killed Mark! You killed us all, William! It’s  _ your _ fault that Damien and Celine were forced to possess the body of an innocent friend, it’s  _ your _ fault that the DA is still trapped in that hellish manor, and it’s  _ your _ fault that you have become nothing but a drunken fool that can’t remember your own name!  _ You _ are the monster, William, not I!”

The room was silent beside a sharp ringing in the air and the soft sound of cars on the road from the streets below. The room was covered in Dark’s aura, sucking all color from every object it touched. Wilford was completely monochromatic. He had an unreadable expression on his face, but he wasn’t doubling over in pain like the last time he was inside his aura. But he was still and quiet, something Dark didn’t like as a replacement. 

The more the silence continued, the more Dark’s words registered. It was only a few minutes before his aura shrank back into itself and his anger died. Wilford, however, was still and cold.

“Wilford…” Dark started hesitantly, afraid his aura might’ve frozen his friend solid, but his name seemed to waken him. Wilford lugged the bag over his back and made his way towards the door faster than Dark could blink. The latter panicked, and rushed in front of Wilford to shut the door before it could open. He pressed his back against the door and started up at Wilford with terror. “Wil, don’t― you can’t just leave me―”

“Why not,  _ Dark?”  _ he spat out his name like poison. “Why should I stay with you? You’re not my friend, I’m not your property, why should I stay here with  _ you?” _

Dark opened his mouth, but Wilford didn’t let him speak. He shoved him off the door and slammed it behind him as he left. 

Once again, the room was silent, nothing but the cars on the road could be heard. Dark was still standing where Wilford had pushed him, staring blankly at the door, as if Wilford would turn around and come back into the room, unnatural smile on his face and telling him a new thing about this generation that they should try out. Maybe going down to the gift shop they saw on the way in and getting Dark something. The longer he stared at the door, the more his hopes faded. He stood there staring for an hour before the hope completely faded and his composure shattered.

He had lost him. Dark had lost Wilford.  _ Again.  _

Dark let out a shuddering breath and shut his eyes tightly, turning away from the door. He dragged his body― it’s not  _ his  _ body, he painfully reminded himself― to the hotel bed and slowly climbing on top. He felt something poke his leg and looked at it. Wilford’s glasses. Golden circular frames with tinted pink lenses. Dark didn’t understand why he had tinted them, Wilford barely wore them in the first place. He had told Dark that he did it so they would act like sunglasses in the sun, which still didn’t make sense, but what did make sense with Wilford.

Dark grabbed the glasses with trembling hands and lifted them up to look at them in a better light. They shined brand new in the soft yellow lighting of the hotel lamps, even the harsh dent in the bridge of it couldn’t break the beautiful image of it. The soft pink lenses seemed to appear darker in the lighting, almost maroon in color. Dark couldn’t help but wish Wilford had worn them more, thinking that he would look rather good in them.

But Wilford was gone.

Dark had done a great deal of keeping his tears at bay despite his crumbling emotions, but the thought that he would never be able to tell Wilford that seemed to break that dam. In no time, he was blinking tears out of his eyes and down his cheeks. It burned against his cold skin and he gasped softly. His hands were trembling even more, making the glasses shake in his grip. As carefully as he could, Dark folded up the glasses and leaned back onto the pillows. His vision was too blurry to see the golden frames any longer, only the tinted pink lenses.

Dark could do nothing but cry for his mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Dark, man. Don't worry though, they'll make up and everything will be fine.


End file.
